Little Girls
by Jinhito
Summary: Three very important people and their influence on the life of one.


**Title:** Little Girls**  
Author:** Jinhito**  
Summary:** Three very important people and their influence on the life of one.**  
Author's Note:** Written under guise _Crystal Castles_ for the OSS Summer Challenge hosted on lj.

**yahiko.**

He found her in an empty house one day while searching for scrapes of food. After breaking through a window and ransacking what looked to be the kitchen, she finally confronted him in a hallway. Her posture was poor and her speech nearly inaudible, but the message she was conveying was perfectly clear.

_Kill me._

She had been crying from the look in her eyes and the redness of her face, Yahiko didn't need to wonder why. War did terrible things to people, and in Amegakure no one was spared. Adults, children, the elderly... all of them suffered from the devastating effects of loss and perdition since the uprising in power over the rainy country began. Foreign fighters from other countries paid and hired to settle disputes among potential dictators; so many good Rain Nin lost, so many civilian lives destroyed.

But instead of doing the one thing that would have been so easy, to turn away and leave her to die alone and miserable, he chose then to take the path less often traveled. He held out his hand to her, a determined look on his face as he told her his name.

"Yahiko."

She was hesitant at first, his reactions not at all what she'd hoped for... but later in life she wouldn't even be able to reflect back on this moment and know what it was she had been expecting in the first place... she took the hand offered, gripped it tightly while reciprocating with her own name.

"Konan."

"Ko, nan," he tested the syllables out, one at a time. Their eyes met in sympathy and he closed his fingers around her own only returning the strength of her grip when they reached the front door.

Walking out hand in hand symbolized something greater than either the two of them were capable of comprehending, but misery loved company. From now on, they would at least have each other.

* * *

"So, do you like it?" he asked, spreading his arms out wide to emphasize the amount of open space in their newfound home. It had just been an empty cave a few days before, but after some mediocre safety checks for stability and or previous tenants on his behalf, Yahiko was fairly certain that this was where they would be spending a majority of their time now, away from the city.

"I don't know..." Konan said, looking up cautiously at the stalactites hanging precariously above them from the cave's ceiling. Recently they had been moving from abandoned house to house, squatting any period of time they could manage before they either deemed the place unsound or another group of homeless forcefully evicted them. But Yahiko had decided enough was enough and that they needed a place they could finally call their own until they were strong enough to retaliate against threats from outsiders. This was the result.

"Was it really so bad just moving from place to place in the city?"

Yahiko scoffed and crossed his arms in a huff behind his head, "is that just another way for you to say you don't like it?" Konan bit her lip and touched some of the smaller stalagmites growing up from the cave floor.

"I don't completely _dislike_ it..." her eyes looked everywhere but her friend. Truthfully she'd have gone anywhere he asked her to. Since her rescue from her family's home almost a year ago, Yahiko had become something like an older brother, a big figurehead in her life and the only sort of family she could lay any claim to. She would have been all right with anything as long as he was present.

"If this is where you want us to stay... it's fine," she amended, folding her hands in on themselves.

"Well, I want it to become _our_ new home... even if it's only for a while... one no one's gonna take from us," he explained holding up a fist in conviction. As he walked further into the back of the cave, he brought down his hand and scoured spaces previously unseen the few days before. Konan just followed like a faithful puppy, trailing at his heels.

"We'll just have to find some places to steal furniture from, that's all," he made it sound so easy, like all of this could potentially work out.

Konan just agreed and made no fuss from then on. If this was what we wanted, then it would be what she wanted too.

* * *

Nagato was a late addition to their little family, and Yahiko was fiercely protective of her until he too became more than a stranger. Yahiko didn't trust others easily, herself being the only exception. But she didn't mind, she knew his heart was big.

As they grew up together and time passed, his dreams became their dreams. She would have done anything to see him succeed. She knew that Nagato felt the same way. So when the opportunity arose for their little gang of peace fighters to meet with the then ruler of Amegakure, it was a chance they couldn't afford to overlook.

Hanzo was finally acknowledging their strength and determination. The night before negotiations were to take place, Konan found herself with her teammates at a local inn discussing topics for the upcoming meeting. She was seated by a window, the panes pushed out and open into the rain. It was a soothing sound, and even after all the years of constantly hearing it, the white noise like effect had yet to dampen any.

The boys were talking in the background while she was quietly listening, her hands busy in the self-disciplined task of folding origami.

"What _**about **_alliances with other countries?" Nagato was seated on one of the beds, his expression tense with his fingers digging anxiously into the fabric of his pants. He was very obviously distressed over their current subject. Yahiko sat on the opposite bed, his back to her. Konan didn't need to see his face to picture his expression.

"I just feel it's important for Amegakure as a nation to grow by extending relationships out to it's neighboring countries. I'm not saying we need to bow down or sacrifice all of our resources in submission to the other nations, but I do think that it's important for all of us in Amegakure, as a whole, to give a little of our pride, have humility to set a proper example for a way to achieve peace amongst all the other nations. That's all..." Yahiko spoke in a calm and thoughtful tone.

He'd discussed this sort of logical progression to peace with Konan before. It was a long drawn out process, the path he wanted to take, but he spoke of it with her because he knew she was more apt to listen whereas Nagato was more prone to arguing the principle of every point in any proposed plan. All of their ideas, whether idealistic or not, carried some weight of risk. Nagato was not the sort of person to gamble on anything he wasn't sure of, which made it difficult for him see eye to eye with Yahiko on anything if there was no for certain outcome in sight.

"We won't know unless we try..." he attempted to reason again when Nagato just shook his head in further disagreement.

"And you think Hanzo's just going to step down and hand over the whole country to you so you can start making radical changes without so much as a fight? Do you really think he wants peace that badly? I mean, look how long it's taken for him to even arrange for a meeting with us! He's only doing it now because he feels threatened and nothing more! We're not little kids anymore that he can just brush off and pretend don't exist!" Yahiko's frown deepened.

Konan continued to eavesdrop and fold her paper cranes.

"I'm just saying we don't really know what kind of person he is. We have to be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he could potentilly be capable of becoming someone trustworthy to us, and that he can be a man of his word... maybe deep down inside, despite his seemingly long reign over Amegakure, he too truly wants peace. What kind of a life does one lead where they're constantly looking over their shoulder, wasting countless bouts of energy just trying to stave off any and every potential threat of succession that comes along? Maybe he's tired too..."

"_Enough_!" Nagato shot up off the bed; his hands were balled in fists, a serious warning sign to possible escalated aggression. Konan stilled her movements; tonight would not be the first time their verbal back lashing turned physical.

"I'm tired of hearing your nonsensical optimism! You of all people have the most reason to distrust this man, more so than anyone else in this country or the surrounding ones! And you're ready to just give up everything we've ever worked for, hand over everything and whatever little power we may control in this country just for the sake of some half-truth peace this man promised you and hope he actually honors it in the end!"

"I don't know, Nagato," Yahiko enunciated every word, watching his friend with exact deliberation. Nagato's breathing had become suddenly inconsistent, his breaths quick and agitated. Yahiko chose his next words carefully so as not to end their evening together on a sour note.

How ironic to talk about peace and good will when all the talking ever did was breed resentment and ill intent.

"But nothing will ever get done if no one extends the effort first. I don't completely trust him either," Yahiko confided in a steady voice, "I don't completely trust many people. The only ones who I can safely put my faith in are you, Konan, our peacekeepers, and myself.

"I know myself," he said evenly, "I won't let us fail."

Nagato stood speechless, taking a few moments to reflect on the last words Yahiko had spoken. His fists came undone and he exhaled loudly.

"I hope you're right..." he said before excusing himself from the room, neither man knew how to recoup after a heated argument. But with some time apart they would be able to regroup later and eventually overlook any disagreements they'd had prior. It was just the way they'd always been.

When the door clicked shut Yahiko hung his head and sighed heavily. Konan just shook hers slowly from side to side, her fingers never stopping.

"He's just nervous is all," she explained, folding the beak down on her four hundredth and seventieth crane. "Tomorrow will be a brighter day, and we will be one step closer to the peace we've always wanted... people are just afraid of change, it's only natural he feels that way too."

Yahiko let out another sigh and got up to join Konan by the window's ledge.

"I know that," he said, seating himself next to her on the floor and picking up a particularly dainty paper crane. "I'm grateful and all for his concern, but I just wish sometimes we knew how to express our feelings better, without fighting..."

Konan smiled and plucked a fresh sheet of colorful paper from her reserve pile before offering it to him with a slight smile. Folding paper or pressing flowers had always been an emotional outlet for her. Yahiko set the little crane down and took the red piece of origami paper. He fingered it lightly while waiting for Konan to fetch herself another sheet.

"You must be wishing for something extra hard if you're folding all these by hand," Yahiko noted, his fingers moving in time with hers. She'd taught him how to fold simple origami years ago when they were children, and although he was decent in precision, his skill was nowhere near as masterful as her's. They made simple valley folds together, deftly creased those folds into flaps, and dragged their fingers down the central line to separate those flaps that would become the crane's wings into two equal halves.

"Yes..." she said quietly, focusing on the tips of her fingers as she raised the crane's elegant neck from an inverted fold. Her painted fingertips were so light and skillful, when she was finished she gave it to Yahiko and he placed both of their's among her growing pile on the floor between them.

"Five hundred and twenty eight left to go," she reached for another piece of paper. Yahiko took one as well.

"I know you're not supposed to tell what it is you're wishing for..." Yahiko began.

"But you'd like to know any way wouldn't you?" she finished for him. His eyes widened and he paused to watch her finish folding her next crane, this one blue. She took another sheet of paper.

"I want us to create the peace we always talked about as children. I know it's possible, and it may not happen with just this one meeting... but I want tomorrow to be the start of something new...

"I want everything to work itself out in the end." She finished another, this one stark white against the multiple colors of the others, and placed it alongside his red one.

"I'd really like that too," he whispered as he finished folding his second paper crane. Five hundred and twenty five left to do before sunrise.

The next morning, before the boys rose to ready themselves for the big meeting, Konan snuck out into the damp morning air to fetch food and more paper. She and Yahiko had folded nearly all one thousand cranes last night; they were but twenty or so short from being done. And though she was mostly grown-up, aged seventeen years since the meeting of her teammates, this one childish thing... she felt compelled to finish it.

As she made her way into the waking marketplace, the rain became a very faint mist. 'Maybe it will stop raining today,' she hoped, picking up bread from an elderly street vendor, 'even if it's only for the opening portion of the negotiations... that would be nice; this could be a sign.' She smiled and moved to inspect some fruit.

After she'd gather all the things necessary for a light breakfast, she turned in the direction of an artist supply store that was very familiar to her. The last few cranes should be made of the finest paper her meager pockets could afford. She knew the shop keep would give her a fair deal if she told him what it was she was setting out to accomplish. Those cranes were going to be the most important and she would fold them with the utter most meticulous care.

Not once did she sense someone stalking her from the shadows. It was too late to fight back when they jumped her at the side door of the store. Everything happened so quickly in the alleyway; no one saw them, no one heard her scream.

With her mouth gagged and her wrists tied, she could only wait until her captors reached their intended destination. As they fled the city limits, she squeezed her eyes shut wondering what was going to happen next. She prayed the boys would not come to save her. Everything be damned that she hadn't wished hard enough for peace.

The rain began to fall heavier.

**nagato.**

She found him, in the pouring rain at the outskirts of town. He was collapsed in the sticky mud, completely unmoving. The only thing that had caught her attention was the sharp keening of a small dog that was currently tugging at the boy's sleeve. She watched them from a distance for a few minutes, trying to discern whether or not he was still alive, worth investigating.

She heard a forced gasp and the noise alone was enough cause for her to approach him. His face was covered by carmine colored hair, the wet tendrils obscuring his eyes. Konan stepped closer, the brim of her wagasa shielding them both from the pouring rain. Reaching into her over-sized shirt, she pulled out a loaf of freshly stolen bread. The crust was warm from contact with her skin, but if he was really starving to death, she doubted he would mind. So she offered it up to him, put it right in his line of vision.

"Here..." she said, "eat this..."

His body tensed and she smiled gently.

"A-are you sure?" he rasped out, his voice nearly cracking.

"Yeah," was her quick reply and she moved to help him stand. Why she had decided to save him, give him her and Yahiko's rations for the next couple of days, she couldn't say... but on either account, she knew Yahiko was not going to be happy.

They talked a little on the way to her home. She told him her name and he told her his and his pet's. Chibi followed obediently at his master's heels, his nose had been uncontrollably twitching since Konan had handed Nagato the bread, but instead of eating it right away he had pocketed it. She had said they weren't far from where she lived.

"Why were you outside the village?" she asked. By no means had Yahiko picked their dwelling close by. Whenever he or Konan went into the village to steal food or supplies, the walk was at least a half an hour to or from the central markets.

"I was hungry," he said, the words sounding very stupid suddenly. He didn't realize he had been walking in the direction of his death. The only fortunate thing to happen to him since his parents were killed, was her finding him on the verge of death from starvation in an open dessert.

"So you walked into the wasteland?" she smiled a small toothy grin, his story would have been amusing had it not posed a more serious threat to his survival.

"There were no more places to beg..." he explained. Not once had he looked up to meet her eyes even though they were walking side by side under the same umbrella.

"You didn't have a choice," she spoke with the same pang of loss, echoing his thoughts exactly.

They came to a halt some yards away from the mouth of a gaping cave. Large formations of rock dotted the landscape out here, they stopped to rest under one. Nagato collapsed against one of the large pillars of rock and caught his breath. The promise of food and shelter had taken the last of his energy and after having walked another mile or two, the hunger had returned with a vengeance.

Konan snapped her ruby lacquered wagasa shut, the drops of water it sent flying were sucked up greedily by the dry earth under their feet. She leaned the wooden handle against the same rock as Nagato and smiled again.

Chibi whined and panted expectantly, his tail wagging in anticipation since their halt. Nagato understood the cues and reached into the pocket of his raincoat. In his hands he stared down at the loaf of bread, his senses both touch and vision trying to reassure him that this was no illusion and that the food he was seeing and smelling and touching was in fact real and his to devour.

Chibi whimpered again. Nagato tore the loaf into two equal portions and gave one of the pieces to his drooling companion. Konan watched them eat and savor their first meal in what may have been days. She knew the feelings all to well and did not judge them.

"We're almost there," he heard her say in between bites, and for the first time in weeks a real smile made its way onto his face.

* * *

After the initial introduction to Yahiko, who had been completely against allowing another pair of outsiders into their hideout, Nagato and Chibi found a new place to call home. A few weeks later and he was already making regular trips with the others back into the city.

The only time their newfound happiness was threatened was when war found them again. A battle had been ensuing on the outskirts of town, a massive fight between powerful individuals in the same direction as their dwelling. They couldn't help but run into it and one part of their family was lost that day.

Nagato tried not to cry while digging a shallow grave for Chibi. Konan sat with him in the rain and helped to scoop out fistfuls of wet earth.

"It's not fair," he hiccupped. Chibi's lifeless form was lying limply in his lap. By the time they'd made it out of harms way, it had been too late. There was nothing anyone could do and Nagato had been inconsolable since.

All of them knew the pain of loss well enough, but that didn't make it any easier to cope with no matter how often they encountered it. Konan did the only thing she knew how to do; she listened and helped him grieve.

"Why did he have to die?" Nagato asked suddenly, his hands stopping in their movements. The ground was so saturated with water here that the grave was slowly filling up into a large puddle. Konan studied his expression long and hard before answering.

"I don't know..." she said. They were only twelve and incapable of understanding that life, no matter the circumstances, was always unfair.

Nagato bit his lip and scrubbed at his face with filthy hands. He didn't care how dirty he was making himself, he felt horrible inside. He couldn't even feel the grit under his fingernails anymore, there was nothing to feel at all but pain. Konan put her own muddy hand on his shoulder, the dirt and grime seeping into their clothes. These stains would be permanent and they'd have to steal some new outfits come tomorrow.

"Maybe we should go inside," she suggested, rubbing slow and intendedly soothing circles into his back. The rain was making this task nearly impossible and at the rate the ground was swallowing up their progress, Chibi's grave wouldn't be finished for another hour or more.

"No!" Nagato shouted, roughly shrugging her off him, "we... we have to give him a proper burial. It's only right..." She nodded slowly in mock agreement, anything to appease the ache seething inside him. They both resumed digging with their hands in silence.

When they were finished, a sloppy mound of clay and earth was all that marked Chibi's grave. Tomorrow they would make a placard of some kind, but not right now. Nagato was still quietly crying when they walked back into the cave, but this time Yahiko didn't tease him or call him names.

A silent dinner followed by an equally silent night signified the passing of their fourth family member. Nagato did not sleep with the others but instead chose to brood at the entrance of their home. He watched the rain fall for what seemed like hours mutely questioning everything he'd ever known. He'd always taken loss the hardest; cried when he remembered his parents, cried when he remembered the life he used to lead... Yahiko had always said Nagato was just like the city, some big crybaby who only wanted to feel sorry for himself.

But Konan didn't think that was true. Amegakure had experienced much hurt. Nagato had too, and constant misery and misfortune twisted people, it made them into something else entirely. She had promised she would protect him from the moment she brought him back half alive from the wastelands.

So watching quietly from a distance, she stayed up with him until the next day began.

When they finally encountered the ninja responsible for the accident that had caused Chibi's death, Konan found herself restraining Nagato. He was trying to flee in the opposite direction, anything to get away. But Yahiko was tired of running. He made it quite clear when he announced his idea to approach those ninja and request to become an apprentice.

"He's crazy!" Nagato struggled against her hold, "they don't want to help us! I've seen those symbols on their foreheads before! They're just a bunch of killers!" Konan frowned and tried to console him.

"Just wait and see," she said in her paper-thin voice, "maybe they're different..."

Yahiko talked with the three adults for a long time. Neither Konan nor Nagato would have had the courage to approach foreign ninja, let alone stand their ground for more than a minute. Whatever was being said, Yahiko was controlling the conversation. Konan, out of motherly concern, released Nagato and moved closer to listen. Although finally set free, Nagato did not run away, he merely crept alongside her with fear set deep in his eyes.

"Hey! Nagato, Konan, come out! They're not bad guys!" they heard their leader say. Slowly they revealed themselves.

"Don't worry," Konan mouthed to Nagato, "I won't let anything happen to you."

He nodded faintly, acknowledging her promise at face value, then he and Konan stepped out into the rain.

* * *

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked him. They were currently hiding out in the Konoha woodlands, somewhere east of what used to be the city. The final Pain, Yahiko's corpse, had been defeated. The unthinkable was happening.

"He will come for me, I'm sure of it."

Nagato was exhausted; he had used his chakra up within an inch of his life. Konan bit the inside of her lower lip, toying with the piercing she'd had put there years ago. They were both tired now, in body and in spirit.

"But he might-" she tried again, "Nagato..."

Her companion refused to hang his head in defeat, his skeleton thin frame looking more and more like parchment paper stretched too far over wire. Long threadlike hair hid his eyes from her, like he used to when they were children and he didn't want her to know what it was he was thinking.

"I have accepted my fate since that day," he said, she knew immediately what he was referring to.

"It is one of constant suffering and utter unhappiness," he worded it so delicately, spoke in such a cool and collected tone. Konan felt anything but calm on the inside hearing him talk so easily about his own upcoming demise.

She felt her eyes begin to tear, the sharp sting of loss she would never become familiar with pin pricking her tear ducts. They had both cried for Yahiko, she knew Nagato did not wish to see her cry again.

"But you don't have to let it end like this... we can escape, we can... we can do anything but please don't die in front of me again!," her voice was all a dramatic sob, she refused to let the tears fall.

"You mean so much to me Nagato..."

The muscles of his bony back tensed slightly then relaxed. His breathing was still mildly labored from his last fight with the Kyuubi vessel, but she knew that no matter the state he was in when Konoha's savior arrived, Nagato would face him completely unafraid. Death was the only outcome if they were to fail, and they had.

'I'm sorry I couldn't keep our promise Yahiko,' Konan tightened her fists at her sides, doing anything to will the rending claws tearing her most sensitive insides apart. It was clear that Nagato was not going anywhere with her, no matter how sincere her words. But that didn't mean she had to let that boy take away the only thing in the world she treasured more deeply than her own life.

'I'm sorry Nagato.'

Moments later a commotion was heard outside in the forest, a crisp rip of hardened paper and fingers were widening the gap created in her paper tree replication. He was here, that boy. Her eyes instantly hardened, an uncontrollable anger surging throughout her body, pumping inside her veins. Nagato must have known she'd react this way.

"Stand back, Konan," he ordered, his eyes finally lifted up to stare hollowly at the shadow cast in light before them. Uzumaki Naruto stepped into the tree.

"Nagato!" she gasped out, 'he'll kill you, he's come to kill you, don't let him take you away from me!'

"Are you the real one!" a teenage voice demanded, he was no older than they had been when they'd first tried to negotiate peace. Nagato sneered for a brief second before dignifying a response.

"So peace has arrived, eh?"

Konan felt her heart seize in her chest. All the paper cranes in the world could not grant her this one wish.

**jiraiya.**

He stared down at the wrapper, each edge so delicately folded in the palm of his aging hand. It had been made into the shape of a rose, one that would never wilt. Sentimentalism was uncommon among men like him, but this was something he couldn't manage to get rid of. Jiraiya kept it as a reminder, the motivation he needed to mold these children into young adults that would be capable of surviving long after he was gone.

"Sensei," he tucked the origami rose back into his robes.

"Yes Konan?"

His little disciple set herself down beside him and smoothed out the creases in her yukata. Tonight's dinner was simmering behind them on the stove, the fish having been caught by the boys and the vegetables having been gathered then prepared by her.

"Am I doing all right?"

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow and leaned back. They were seated around a low table on tattered coushins with their knees pressing down into the floor.

"My cooking," she smiled up at him, "the cleaning. You know the boys never pick up after themselves..." Jiraiya chuckled and nodded.

"Boys are boys," he said matter of factly, "but what a wonderful surprise it would be if you turned out a girl in the end."

Konan joined in the laughter and moved to cover her mouth with small hands. Even though she considered herself no different from her teammates, deserving of the same rough treatment and being held to the same hard expectations, it was still nice to get that little bit of praise that focused solely on her individuality.

"I think so too," she joked, moving to stand and check on the cooking food again. As she passed him, Jiraiya reached into another pocket and pulled out a well-used notebook containing an uncapped pen. He flipped open the pad of paper in one hand and pulled the pen out of his last book-marked place with the other.

The illusion he and the kids had created was nearly perfect, a quaint little home on the edge of the rainy city far from the war and desolation they were so accustomed to. He breathed deep and savored the air of boiling stew, he could almost close his eyes and pretend that this was what civilian life was like, a warm place with warm food and warm bodies.

Jiraiya brought the pen down to paper and began to write.

"Sensei," Konan's supple forearm reached in front of him and she set a crude rendition of tableware at his seat. The bowls and plates they owned had been made of rough clay and though they were ugly, they served their purpose well enough; Jiraiya couldn't help but imagine that his student were a maiko geisha instead serving him from the finest porcelain money could buy.

'A good storyline,' he thought to himself, 'what is it that Japanese women are renown for? Pressing the suit her husband will wear to meet the Geisha?'

"You're thinking very hard," Konan said moving to set three more bowls on the table, "is this the one that will be your best selling novel yet?"

Jiraiya chuckled and penned in a few more lines. He hadn't been paying enough attention to notice that half a page was already down but thoughtless writing had always been his strong suit.

"We'll see," he remarked, shutting the book with his new notes. "You know an old man's idle mind make his imagination run wild. The characters and scenarios it can invent might not even seem real by the end."

"Which is another way for you to say it's going to end up being perverted," she commented leaving the table to fetch some napkins. Jiraiya laughed and tucked his notebook back into his pocket.

"You're judging a little harsh there don't you think?"

Konan came back to the table and thumbed through the four coarse napkins she had found. "No," she said, separating them and making a few simple valley folds in each, "I just know who you really are."

They shared one more private laugh before Jiraiya stood up to call for the boys to come in and eat. He left the sliding door open before returning to his seat. Rain was still falling steadily and the telltale sloshing of boots in the mud could be heard rushing back.

"Let's just hope it tastes as good as it smells," Jiraiya said before sitting down again, the younger boys were already making their way sloppily up the steps and kicking off their muddy boots. He eyed Konan one more time, watching her set down each spoon and pair of chopsticks as neatly as she pressed flowers.

"You know Konan... if you're not careful," she paused to listen before placing the last set of utensils on the table, "you'll make a fine wife someday."

She smiled again and laid down the last of the silverware with greater care.

Later that night when all the dishes were washed and put away and the meal had been eaten and cleaned from the table, Jiraiya had the boys straighten up the living room to accommodate their three futons. They did so quickly with wet bodies and wet hair, part of growing up to become a responsible adult was to learn to take care of oneself. Jiraiya made sure daily hygiene was factored into the kids' regime along with their regular training and jutsu practices.

"I'm gonna sleep closer to the fire!" Yahiko yelled, tugging at the larger futon he and Nagato shared. He moved it strategically closer to the open fireplace Jiraiya had lit promptly after dinner.

"That's not fair," Nagato griped while setting out Konan's futon in between Jiraya's and theirs, "Master, he got to sleep closer to the fire last night too!"

Only Jiraiya and Konan were privileged enough to sleep alone. It wouldn't have even been made into a big deal either had Tsunade not written him a prompt reply about how unsightly it would be for a little girl to share beds with two little boys... or an older man for that matter. She had made herself quite clear. And Jiraiya, never one to say no to his female teammate's requests, was eventually guilted into buying another futon just for Konan.

"Not my fault you had to wake up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom..." Yahiko remarked in a snide tone just loud for everyone to hear.

"Hey... hey, boys!" He found himself almost yelling to stop their bickering.

Every day it was some thing or another with them, fighting over who got a training partner, who got to practice justsus with him, or even just for their third teammate's attention. It was all a part of their friendly rivalry spurred on by hormones, something he and Orochimaru had almost but not quite experienced. This was more like siblings, the sort he was familiar with had been much more dangerous. He didn't even know if friendly was the right word to call it.

"Why can't you both just sleep in front of the fire?"

All commotion stopped and their eyes converged at the backdoor. Konan was wrapped up in her night yukata with a towel splayed over her wet hair. The rain was still falling outside and it helped keep beat to the rhythm of silence that followed after her words.

Both boys eyed each other cautiously, trying to comprehend how two people could share such little space when they slept on the outside of a three futon sandwich, before looking back at their teammate. It seemed as though they had come to the same sudden conclusion, "that's _gross_!"

Jiraiya laughed and slapped his knee as they spoke in unison. Konan just shook her head and shut the door behind her before walking over to her futon. She was always the last to bathe at night because she was the only girl.

Only once had she ever bathed with the boys. But that was when they were orphans and had been improper, and they may never have known better had Jiraya not taken them in. Back then novelties like clean bodies and clean clothes were just aspirations, war orphans had nothing to look forward to except a hard uphill struggle for life. They would only have been able to shiver together until death found them.

But now their new teacher had made those dreams become a reality. Warm food and a warm place to stay and call home... they had almost forgotten what life was like before Jiraiya had arrived. His promise to stay and take care of them... they couldn't have asked for anything more.

Konan toweled her hair one last time before discarding it into the hamper. The boys had finally quieted down and settled into their bed with a fair amount of space keeping them apart, Nagato facing her and looking expectantly. Now they were excitedly talking about tomorrow - what new jutsus would they learn, who would hit more kunai into the targets bull's-eye most consecutively? She slid into her bed and listened to them talk. Jiraiya remained at the kitchen table writing something furiously. A thought occurred to Konan, "Nagato, Yahiko," she whispered, "do you know what Sensei writes in his notebook?"

Both boys stared at her blankly before Nagato slowly shook his head and Yahiko developed a slight flush.

"I flipped through the pages once or twice," Yahiko covered his mouth with his hand and spoke as quietly as he could, "some of the lines are really-" his cheeks began to turn a distinct shade of red and he stopped. Both his teammates waited expectantly for the rest of his answer, but Yahiko froze up and rolled over to feign sleep.

Nagato motioned over Konan's shoulder. Their teacher had been studying them out of the corner of his eye. Nagato tucked himself back under the covers in his futon and nodded good night to his teammate.

Sleep did not find Konan early that night. Instead she stayed awake as long as she could implementing all the stealthy reconnaissance techniques she knew to watch her teacher pen line after line of complicated characters into his little notebook.

* * *

Something was moving against his back. Jiraiya was sure this was not a hallucination; it had soft skin and warm breath. It even had small hands he noted as the delicately filed nails raked across his back with feather light touch.

He had been the last to go to sleep the night before, writing was a hobby that paid the bills and passed the time. He hadn't meant to get so engrossed, but before he knew it the kids were asleep and the fire was dying down. He had called it a night sometime around midnight, but he very clearly remembered crawling into his futon alone.

A soft sigh was heard behind him and Jiraiya rolled over enough to see past his shoulder. In the dark, under the covers, a messy tuft of dark hair was pressed beneath his shoulder blades. There was only one person it could be, both boys were still sleeping soundly and the futon in the middle was vacant.

'Konan,' he thought, he pulled away from her and lifted the covers just in time to watch her face scrunch up at the loss of warm skin to skin contact.

Her hair had dried mussed in all directions and by her movements from one bed into another, whether intentional or not, her night yukata had come partially undone. The soft upper swells of her breasts, still small though developing, were half exposed. Jiraiya caught himself staring. He flushed a shameful color before removing himself from his futon and stepping outside onto the porch and into the moist morning air.

Jiraiya sat down, in his favorite place, the corner of the stoop where he often gave comfort to his students. The cool relief offered by the outdoors was enough to settle his blood. He rubbed a rough hand over his temples and rested his fingertips on the brim of his nose, squeezing pressure on the bone there until his eyes teared up. Something he had not accounted for was rearing its ugly head.

These kids were no longer kids. They were beginning to grow wills and desires that he was not equipped to handle.

'She's maturing faster,' he reasoned. 'Tsunade was the same way when we were younger. Women are always the first to act on those new kinds of emotion... men just cross the finish line later in life.' How could he have forgotten?

He sat on the porch in the misting rain for what felt like hours. Before the sun could lighten the permanent overcast, he got up and straightened his clothes. Stepping quietly with all the grace of a cat, he made his way back into the house and over to his futon. Konan was still wrapped up in the blankets, he wasn't sure if she had been conscious or not when she attempted such a bold move as this, but one way or the other Jiraiya was not going to allow it.

Hunching over her, he rearranged the short sleeves of her yukata back on her shoulders, deft fingers making quick work of the tie around her waist. A lot more effort was needed to inch his hands under her frame and gently lift and set her back into her own futon. She didn't make a sound as he tucked her in, and neither did the boys with their quiet and steady breathing.

With everyone else so peaceful in their beds, he got up and refused sleep for the rest of the night. Instead he took a seat back at the table and watched his students peacefully unaware of the troubles brewing within their teacher.

The time had come for him to sit down and come to terms with the fact that the students in his young team were no longer thoughtless children, but in fact deliberate young adults. It was a lot harder to reconcile than he would have ever imagined, that they didn't need him anymore.

The young woman who had helped herself into his bed tonight was the last straw to break the camel's back. He would gather his belongings before sunrise and leave. It was time for them to grow up without him. And although he knew it was going to be difficult, for both of them, because growing up in some way or another often-entailed hardships, he knew it would be for the best in the end.

Sudden slight movement in the darkness of their unlit home caught his attention; morning was still hours away. Jiraiya could feel Konan staring at him from across the room with wide wise eyes. Maybe she knew had already figured it out. He would never know.

* * *

When she saw him again, nearly thirty years had passed. He was older and so was she, but there was something more distinct about him this time than she had ever recalled from the past. He was more stubborn, more serious, and more tired than she remembered.

His complexion was darker too, stained permanently in blacks and reds from the rich pigment he used to obsessively paint on when he was younger. It suited him though this new aged appearance. It would be much easier to kill a stranger than a former acquaintance because Konan knew that even though he had once been her master, she was now his enemy.

Her intent was to strike first and question later. He had no purpose coming back to the rainy city he'd left them in, abandoned them to.

"I cast the bait hoping to land this 'Pain' guy..." he started to say, pulling the rest of his limbs out from their uncomfortable position tethered to the silhouette of some lowly rain nin. She watched him with cautious regard when his expression became one not of concern or fear... but instead the lines of his face were slanted in a rather constrained smile.

"Who'd have known I'd end up with you instead?"

She tightened her lips, not letting the words eat away at her. Part of being an adult was not always getting what you wanted, but always dealing with the setbacks in stride. She had grown much from the little girl he may have only vaguely remembered her as. She would not pretend like his rejection then still affected her now... after all, she'd most certainly grown into a woman.

**end.**


End file.
